Agents: Paths of the Past
by Stormhawk
Summary: All 6 chapters are now up, will Stevie get her memories back or has Smith lost her forever?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Paths of the Past: Chapter One  
  
Author: Stormhawk  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Matrix universe and associated characters: Wachowski brothers. ATS universe: co-owned by me and Mordax. Stef, Darth, Stevie, Cray, Jessica, Brad (and cohorts): Me  
  
Total Word Count: 15641 Chapter Word Count: 3043  
  
Summary: Stevie's changing, and it might not be for the best.  
  
Notes: Does anyone need the physics of Stevie again? If you do, email me.  
  
Just be warned that there is a lot of talk in here about the taking of drug and alcohol. This is bad behavior that destroys families. Please don't take drugs or drink excessively.  
  
Please read and Review.  
  
"Stef?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Stef?"  
  
"Give me a minute."  
  
Smith sat down on the chair on the other side of her desk and looked across at her. Both her feet were up on her messy desk and she was busily typing something into a cell phone.  
  
"What are you doing?" He asked as he looked at the half dozen or so folders strewn across her desk.  
  
"Hang one second," she said as she finished and hit the 'send' button, "done."  
  
"What were you doing?"  
  
"Typing a text message."  
  
"To who?"  
  
"Stevie."  
  
He looked up at the clock and then back at her, "she's supposed to be in class right now."  
  
"And.?" Stef asked guilty.  
  
"And I don't want her studies interrupted by annoying text messages."  
  
"Did you just call me annoying?"  
  
"No, just your messages. Like your emails."  
  
She pouted, "so now you're telling me you don't want anymore jokes forwarded?"  
  
"You are lucky out email isn't monitored," he said with a smirk.  
  
"And I've seen you laugh at some of them."  
  
"Give me the phone," he said and she reluctantly handed it over. "When did you get this anyway?"  
  
"A couple of weeks ago. It's good for Stevie to have some way of contacting us. It's not like she can ring up and asked to be transferred through to her dad."  
  
"Good point," he said as he held up the phone and read the message aloud. "School is boring it's a fact of life. Just drift away and think of something else. I suggest dancing chibis. Either that or fifty ways to torture a rebel with a plastic spoon." He tried to frown but it wasn't that convincing.  
  
The phone beeped, Stef reached across the table and tried to grab it but he held it out of reach. "That message is for me Smith."  
  
He shook his head and opened it, "Way one, bash them with it. Way two, bash them harder. You got any good ones?"  
  
"Can I have my phone back?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Stevie," he said out loud as he typed. "This is your dad. Pay attention in class. No matter how boring it is."  
  
"Go ahead," Stef dared, "spoil the fun."  
  
He added something to the message and sent it.  
  
"Give me," Stef ordered. "I want to see what you typed just then."  
  
He chuckled and handed it over. "Way three," she read, "use tap-dancing spoons to send them insane." She blinked a few times and stood up. Walking around her desk she placed a hand on his forehead. "Are you feeling ok? No glitching, viruses? Anything?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"Smith you just wrote 'tap-dancing spoons.'"  
  
"So?"  
  
"Something like that would usually give me cause as to inquire about the state of your mental health."  
  
"So why aren't you?"  
  
"Cause I have the feeling that you have a ready-made comeback for it."  
  
"Actually I don't. But spending time with you has had an effect on my sense of humor." The phone beeped again and she opened the new message.  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
She almost blushed, "it's not from Steves actually."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"It's from Darth."  
  
"And what does young Mr. Kinnell want?"  
  
"He wants to know if I'm busy."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Am I busy for the next couple of hours?"  
  
"Unless you would rather spend your time.what exactly is it that you're doing?"  
  
"Studying exile files."  
  
"Really? I'm proud of you."  
  
She stopped and looked at him, "do you really mean that?"  
  
"Of course I do," he said looking confused.  
  
"Thank you. That means a lot."  
  
"What does?"  
  
"You being proud of me. No one has ever been proud of me before."  
  
He smiled, "you're welcome. Do your homework later, go have fun. Just give me your cell number first."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Since I very much doubt you'll have your earpiece in, I'll need some way to contact you. That is, without barging in on your privacy."  
  
She blushed that time, "just knock next time."  
  
"Number."  
  
"001-5323," she said with a smirk.  
  
He pressed his earpiece and thought something. Then her phone rang and she answered it, "hello?"  
  
"You had to answer it didn't you?" Smith asked and she heard his voice echo.  
  
"You expect any less from me?" she asked as she put her phone down and changed her clothes. She required a pair of dark blue pants and a light blue long sleeved shirt. "See you later," she said as she picked up her phone and shifted away.  
  
"The answer is no," she said as she shifted into Darth's room.  
  
"Good," he said as turned around and smiled. He was wearing a crumpled gray shirt that he had slept in, loose combat pants that seemed to be old even though all of the collaborator's clothes were new. Maybe he'd gotten them second hand. He ran his hand through his brown hair and looked down at her. To him she was perfect.  
  
Like an angel who had flown so close to the earth she had become a part of it.  
  
He walked over to her and kissed her. "I'm still expecting to wake up," he mumbled as they broke apart.  
  
"Why leave the dream?" she asked rhetorically.  
  
"I don't think I will," he said with a grin. "Want to hang out?"  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
"What do you want to do?"  
  
"The mall?"  
  
"Sounds good," he said as he opened his wardrobe and looked for something to wear. He shuffled through his shirts and chose one with some binary code on it. He pulled his old shirt off and threw it toward the laundry hamper, it missed.  
  
Stef felt a guilty grin pull at her face; he was just as good looking without a shirt on. He went to pull on his new shirt but she held out a hand and stopped him.  
  
"Wait."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I never knew you had a scar there," she mumbled as she traced a finger over thin scar on his upper arm.  
  
"Oh, that," he said dismissively, "I got that when I was a kid."  
  
"How?"  
  
"When you're nine and obsessed with Star Wars and you find a sword in your grandfather's attic.can you put the pieces together?"  
  
"You dropped it?"  
  
"Nah, I tripped and landed on the damn thing. It hurt like hell."  
  
"I can imagine."  
  
"So what about you? You got any scars?"  
  
"A couple." She said as she withdrew her hand.  
  
"Come on, let's see them," he said in a playful tone.  
  
She lifted up her shirt just above her bellybutton and turned to the side. "Slipped in the rain and landed on a piece of glass."  
  
"Ouch." He said as he knelt and looked at it. He pushed his face forward and gently kissed it before standing. He slipped his shirt and spread his arms wide. "Well?"  
  
She looked at the binary code and snorted, "maybe you are, maybe you aren't."  
  
"You can read it?"  
  
"Of course I can." She said with a nod, the shirt read 'I am the best' with one letter per line of code.  
  
"Sorry, stupid question."  
  
"It's code, like I am." The words tumbled out her mouth before she knew what she was saying. Turning away she picked up the gray shirt and put it into the hamper, slowly closing the lid. Delaying the time until she had to look at him.  
  
"Do you honestly think I have a problem with you being a program?"  
  
"Don't you?" she asked in a whisper.  
  
"No. And I say that without hesitation."  
  
"You do realize that a couple of months ago I would have shot you in the head without having to think twice. I'm an agent. I will always be an agent."  
  
"I know exactly what you are and I know exactly how I feel."  
  
She smiled, maybe this could work "then let's go." He picked up his wallet and put it into one of his pockets. "Hold on."  
  
"To what?" he asked with a grin.  
  
"To me."  
  
They appeared in a quiet part of the mall and started to walk around. Stef caught him stealing a couple of glances at her. "Something you want to ask me?"  
  
"Actually there is, if you don't mind."  
  
"As long as it isn't 'are you ticklish?'."  
  
Darth grinned as they stared into the game store window, "It's a bit more serious than that."  
  
"Here it comes," Stef muttered, knowing what the question would be. "I'm not answering it here," she said looking around, "somewhere less public."  
  
"I didn't even ask it yet."  
  
"You didn't need to. You know somewhere quiet?"  
  
"Stonehenge keeps a lot of secrets," she nodded and shifted them away. They walked down the creaking stairs and Darth booked a computer.  
  
Morse smiled, "welcome back, I thought you'd left us forever Lord Vader."  
  
"You still remember me Morse?"  
  
He nodded, "you want anything to eat to go with your web time?"  
  
"Not right now," Darth said nodding to Stef who was standing a few feet back.  
  
"Fe-male," he said in a Dalek-like voice, "you know we don't get a lot of them down here. Isn't she going to get freaked out?"  
  
"Nah, she's one of us."  
  
"Anakin and Amidala?"  
  
That got a reaction.  
  
"There is no new trilogy," Stef and Darth said at the same time, making crosses with their fingers.  
  
Morse chuckled and nodded, "she defiantly belongs down here. Number eight." Darth nodded and walked over to the computer.  
  
Darth hooked up to the net and relaxed back against the booth. "Now can I ask?"  
  
"Sure," Stef said.  
  
He streamlined the complicated question down to one word, "how?"  
  
"I was a recruit. Very nearly wasn't but I managed to get Smith not to shoot me in the head. I had a malfunctioning real world body, it's what happens when the cloning process doesn't go right and I died. A month later I was an agent."  
  
"You died?"  
  
"I didn't expect to come back, I didn't ask to. It just happened."  
  
"That's pretty heavy. Any regrets?"  
  
"I think I can safely say not one. Anything else important you want to ask me?"  
  
"I don't think so. What did you tell your co-workers?"  
  
Stef grew serious; she hadn't realized that she hadn't told him that yet. "They can't know. None of the other agents can know or I get deleted."  
  
"They'll kill you for being in love?"  
  
"Agents can't love. At least they aren't supposed to."  
  
He took a moment taking this all in, "am I worth that chance?"  
  
"Yes," she whispered as she kissed him.  
  
After spending an hour at Stonehenge, her phone rang and she had to leave. "I'll come tonight if I can," she promised before disappearing.  
  
*****  
  
Stef shifted into his room about one am, and found him slumping at his keyboard. "Come on," she said, "I think you need some sleep."  
  
He smiled blearily at her, "I tried to stay awake."  
  
"You almost didn't succeed."  
  
"I knew you'd come tonight, I missed you last night."  
  
"I wish I could be here every night. I really wish I could. It's not my fault that I don't have set hours when I work." She paused and smiled up at him, "you are very cute when you're asleep in front of your computer."  
  
"I don't fall asleep in front of my computer." He said as he flopped onto the bed, pushing some books off the end. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at her.  
  
"Yes you do. I shifted in like three this morning, after everything got finished. You were sound asleep with your head on your mouse pad." Stef said as she required some pajamas and crawled in beside him, laying her head on his chest.  
  
"How come you didn't wake me up?"  
  
"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to or not."  
  
"Always wake me, I want every moment I can have with you."  
  
"Don't you dare get sappy or I'll shoot you."  
  
"I wasn't trying to be sappy"  
  
"In that case," Stef said as he flicked off the lamp. "I promise to wake you at odd hours when I can't stay."  
  
"Good," he said as rested back onto the pillows. "I'll see you in the morning."  
  
"Always," she promised as she stretched out and closed her eyes.  
  
He reached across and held her hand, "I think I can get used to this," he whispered before he went to sleep.  
  
It was the early hours of the morning when Stef opened her eyes and listened to a sound. Looking around Darth's room there was nothing out of place. The noise was coming from the floor below. Slowly crawling out of the bed so she didn't wake him she opened the door and slipped down the stairs.  
  
Standing at the bottom of the stairs she listened to the second floor wing. The stairs up to the attic were through a short alcove on the right side of the stairs, the same side as Stevie's bedroom. To the left of the stairs were Cray and Niq's rooms. There was another wing to the house, with another four rooms where the rest of the Exodus crew or any guests could stay, along with the kitchen, lounge room, bathrooms, den, rec room.it was fair to say that they had been given a good deal.  
  
Stef listened for the sound, which seemed to have stopped, turning to walk back up the stairs she heard it coming from Stevie's room. Knocking lightly on the door and not getting a response she twisted the handle and walked in. The room was much better than what it had been when they had first woken back up in the Matrix. The room now looked like it belonged to a teenager, covered in posters and messy.  
  
Stevie was tossing and turning in her bed in the middle of a nightmare, muttering stuff every so often. Stef sat beside her and lightly shook her awake. "I'm burning, I'm burning," Stevie said she looked blindly around the room, still not fully awake.  
  
"Stevie wake up," she ordered the teenager. Stevie whimpered as she looked around her room. Seeing Stef in the low light she threw her arms around her.  
  
"I was in a fire. I was burning."  
  
"Shh," she said as she rubbed her back, "it was just a nightmare, it's ok."  
  
"No, it was real. I could feel the fire."  
  
"I'm here, it's ok." Stevie nodded and dried her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "Do you want me to go get your dad?"  
  
"No, it was just a dream. Just don't go yet ok?"  
  
"I'm not going anywhere. Do you want to try and go back to sleep?"  
  
"No, I'll dream if I'm asleep. I don't want another dream like that." She said up and crossed her legs, grabbing a hair tie and tying her hair back from her face. She caught a glimpse of her clock, "it's two forty-five am, what are you doing here?"  
  
Oops, no one else (besides Smith) knew about her and Darth yet. "I was upstairs watching Darth hack a system, you know computer types, they don't keep regular hours like you do."  
  
"Oh, ok."  
  
"Here, drink this," she said requiring a white mug and handing it to her.  
  
"Warm milk?"  
  
"Trust me, it'll make you feel better."  
  
"Can I have a hot chocolate instead?"  
  
"Sugar is not good this time of morning," Stevie gave her a look and sipped the milk.  
  
"Just like the old times hey?" Stevie asked as she flicked on her lamp and rested back on her pillows.  
  
"Except I'm not plaiting your hair and you're not giggling over a guy's picture in a magazine. This is a pretty bad slumber party."  
  
"I've got one organized for two weeks away, all my new friends from my new school."  
  
"How many?"  
  
"Seven others."  
  
"That is so going to piss Cray off, all those giggling teenage girls, he'll go nuts."  
  
"He'll probably flee to Darth's room or hide under his sister's bed."  
  
Stef smirked, life was returning to normal. Everyone was finding their level. "Do a Lisa Simpson."  
  
Stevie broke into an open grin, "give him a makeover, evil! We could do that." She drank some more of her milk, so Stef made another requirement and laced it with something to make her sleep. As she finished it off and put the cup on her beside table she yawned. "Maybe I will go back to sleep."  
  
"Just try. You probably won't have another dream." Stevie settled down and pulled the blanket back up over her, Stef reached over and clicked off the lamp.  
  
"Don't go yet."  
  
"I'll stay till you're asleep," Stef promised as she moved out of the way so Stevie could get comfortable. It only took five minutes for her to fall asleep.  
  
She shifted back up to Darth's room and found him awake, he smiled as she snuggled back up to him. "I thought you left again."  
  
"Sorry, Stevie had a nightmare."  
  
"She's had a couple, sometimes when I'm still up at six in the morning and decide to stay up I go downstairs to pour a coffee and she's already up. She says her dreams wake her up cause they're so real."  
  
"She's been through a lot."  
  
"We can talk about this later in the day. It's three in the morning," Darth said as he yawned.  
  
"Just cause you're a pathetic human and need sleep," she said jokingly before brushing her lips over his.  
  
"Goodnight again. Wake me before you go."  
  
"Always," she said as he closed his eyes. She closed her eyes and snuggled close to him, feeling safe and warm in his embrace.  
  
She couldn't sleep, that was quite possibly the only thing that bothered her, it hadn't really mattered before, she had spent her nights surfing the net, chasing rebels, annoying Smith and studying files. Now she had somewhere else that she felt she belonged.  
  
But she found that if she didn't concentrate on anything in particular she could just drift in and out of old data and such, and it made the time pass. It wasn't that she minded being there of course; she'd stay forever if she could. But something was bugging her at the back of her mind; she'd have to figure out what that was.  
  
It was probably nothing.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
YAY! Finally I got this finished. I'm breaking it up into sections cause it's so long but it's all been uploaded. 


	2. Chap 2

Title: Paths of the Past: Chapter Two  
  
Author: Stormhawk  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Chapter Word Count: 3136  
  
Notes: Nope  
  
Please read and Review.  
  
The next afternoon.  
  
"I'll get it," Stevie called to the rest of the house as someone rang the doorbell. She opened the door and saw an older guy with short dark brown hair.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"I'm Brad, I live up the street."  
  
"Brooke."  
  
"We're having a party tonight, so we're inviting everyone and getting everyone else not to call the cops if the music gets too loud. You interested?"  
  
She smiled, "sure."  
  
Brad grinned, "good, the whole house is invited. Seventeen twenty, the brown and white joint. When you hear the music come on up."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"See you then," he said with a wink as he left.  
  
"You can't go," Stevie jumped a foot into the air as she heard her dad's voice as she closed the door.  
  
"Don't scare me like that dad!" she screeched as she tried to calm her heart rate back down. "When the hell did you get here?"  
  
"I just got here."  
  
"And you were listening in?"  
  
"You cannot go to this party."  
  
"Don't tell me that! This is the first party I've been invited to since I've been plugged back into." He went to say something but she stopped him, "that isn't a birthday party."  
  
"It's a school night."  
  
"I won't stay out that late."  
  
"That boy has a criminal record as long as my arm."  
  
"Don't say that," she groaned as she followed him through to the kitchen.  
  
He required a file and flipped it open, "Brad Williams, age seventeen," he paused, "it's actually longer than my arm. Theft, drug abuse, disturbing the peace multiple times. His friends who share the house with him have similar records."  
  
"If they're that bad then why isn't they in jail?"  
  
He was quiet for a moment, requiring the answer. "Their parents bribed the police."  
  
She pouted, "damn."  
  
Smith looked down at his daughter, he wasn't trying to spoil her fun but he didn't want her in danger. The dilemma of every parent. "It's not the last party in the world."  
  
"Yeah but everyone else in the street is going." She looked up at him, "and don't you pull the jumping off a bridge line on me."  
  
"Yeah," Cray said as he walked into the kitchen, "let's bungee off.a.bridge." He stopped and looked up at Smith. Even after this time being plugged back in it was hard not to be afraid of the deadliest agent of all. Even if he was Stevie's father.  
  
He'd probably get over it.  
  
"I wasn't talking about bungee jumping Cray," Stevie said tiredly. "It's the parent's line. You know."  
  
"Yeah," he mumbled as he walked to the fridge. "What about anyway?"  
  
"There's a party and I'm not allowed to go."  
  
"The boys holding it are criminals," Smith reiterated.  
  
"Then I can't go either. Ryder would flip if he knew I was anywhere near a bad element. We will not mention the parties that Niq has been to."  
  
"A couple of months ago you were a bad element."  
  
"Yes dad, but he's not a rebel anymore." Cray gulped as he realized that today of all days he was wearing all black. A sign of the resistance.  
  
"Maybe not," Smith conceded.  
  
"So? Are we going?" Stevie asked her dad. He nodded and she waved to Cray as they shifted away.  
  
When they walked up to the cinema the long was very long. They joined it and looked around. "I didn't think it would be this busy," Stevie mumbled.  
  
"It's not your fault."  
  
Stevie nodded and looked around, she jerked her thumb toward Imor, a shop that sold cool and punk clothing. She could see a red top in the window. "Can I go there for a minute?"  
  
Smith looked at the line ahead of him, "I'm sure I'll still be here." She grinned and walked off.  
  
"They grow up so quickly don't they?"  
  
Smith turned and saw an old man in line behind him. He nodded. "They do."  
  
"You can't stop it, one day they're a baby in your arms, next they want the car and your credit card. Then they move out and stop calling."  
  
Smith looked toward the store where he could just see Stevie through the decorated windows. "Are they all like that?"  
  
The old man shrugged, "I don't think so. I hope you don't have to find out."  
  
"So do I," Smith mumbled.  
  
***  
  
Stevie had tried on the red top. It fit perfectly and it was on sale so it was a good purchase. She carried it toward the counter but something caught her eye.  
  
It was a purple material and mesh tank top. The mesh was on the back and bottom, leaving a purple tube top surrounded by mesh to make it look like a real top. It wasn't the kind of thing she usually went for but something about it made her want to buy it. She pulled one off and tried it on.  
  
She looked at herself in the mirror. No, it wasn't really her.  
  
But.  
  
She took another look and found her gaze locked onto the reflection of her own eyes. She wasn't sure how long she looked into them.  
  
It was almost as if.  
  
"Miss are you alright?" the attendant called out.  
  
Stevie blinked and snapped back to reality. "Yeah, I'm fine." She changed back into her normal top and smiled at the black-haired girl. "I spaced."  
  
"Taking both of these?" she asked as she took the two tops off the teenager.  
  
"Yup," Stevie said as she pulled out her bankcard. She paid for the tops and carried the black plastic bag out. She found Smith waiting with tickets.  
  
"You forgot the popcorn."  
  
"No I didn't, I didn't know how long you were going to be so I'll require some once we're in there."  
  
"Good plan."  
  
He shifted them both back to the mansion once the movie was over. "Bye dad," she said as she hugged him and he shifted away. She followed her nose into the kitchen.  
  
The other three were eating spaghetti and meatballs. "Hungry?" Niq asked as she picked up a spare plate. Stevie nodded and the older girl spooned some out, "don't worry Darth didn't cook it."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Sorry Darth but you really can't cook," Niq said flatly.  
  
"I can when I want."  
  
"Yeah, which isn't often. And goop doesn't count cause we grew that."  
  
"Goop is the ultimate fungi," Cray muttered as he slurped up some spaghetti.  
  
"Ew," the girls said in unison while the boys snickered.  
  
A few hours later everyone said goodnight. Stevie got changed for bed and she looked out her window and could see the party going in full swing and hear the music loud enough to sing along with it.  
  
She wanted to be there.  
  
But her dad had said no and she had to listen.  
  
Didn't she?  
  
If she went for a while he wouldn't know would he? No one would rat on her to Agent Smith. Not the ex-rebels anyway. Stef might have but she wasn't there was she?  
  
Stevie grinned to herself.  
  
She made her mind up and pulled open her wardrobe and looked for something suitable to wear to a party. Then she remembered about her new tops. She pulled open the bag and immediately discarded the red one, slipping on the purple mesh one. She looked at herself in the mirror.  
  
Perfect.  
  
Tight black pants and short heeled boots and the mesh top. She smoothed her hair behind her ears; she was considering dyeing it, maybe red. She dug threw her desk drawer and found a spiked cuff that she had picked up on a shopping trip and slipped it onto her right wrist.  
  
She looked in the mirror again. Much better.  
  
Her own eyes caught her attention again. She stared unblinking as the image around her almost seemed to morph or distort but with her focus solely on her eyes everything was blurry anyway.  
  
It was almost as if someone else was looking back at her.  
  
"Freak show," she muttered and opened her window. She jumped out and fell slowly through the air as to not hurt herself and landed softly on the grass. She was getting better at manipulating the Matrix. Well after all, it was her world.  
  
Smirking, she walked up the street.  
  
"Ah you made it," Brad's voice came from off to the side as she walked up the stairs of the house, which was of comparable size to the mansion she lived in.  
  
"Cause I did."  
  
He jumped down from the railing, "let me show you around."  
  
"Cool."  
  
He led her into the house, which was full of teens and young adults in varying states of drunkenness and awareness. "Food there, don't touch the green chips if you want to keep your stomach." She gave him an odd look, "some health food shit."  
  
"You'd have to pay me to go anywhere near them," Stevie said as she caught a look at him.  
  
"You a user?" he asked in a quieter tone. She shook her head, "well if you want to experiment the guys in the room on the other side will set you up with some pretty mind blowing stuff."  
  
"No drugs." She said, but somehow felt conflicted about saying it.  
  
"Drink?" he asked as he handed her a beer.  
  
The word 'no' stuck in her throat before she could say it. She didn't actually want to say no.  
  
She didn't drink.  
  
No one had to know.  
  
Just one.  
  
"Anything but beer, I hate the smell," she said in a slightly rougher voice.  
  
"A girl who knows what she wants, at last." He mixed her a couple of drinks together and handed her the plastic cup. She sniffed at it.  
  
"Trust me," he said with a grin.  
  
She shouldn't trust him.  
  
She told that part of her brain to shut up.  
  
She downed it without blinking. She blew out a long breath then looked up at him, "what else you got?"  
  
"Not the innocent I thought you were," he said as he poured some more into a taller cup and handed it to her. Stevie tossed her other cup over her shoulder, hitting a nearby teen in the head.  
  
This drink she took slower, drinking it in-between moving to the music. Throwing her cup away she grabbed a girl's bottle of beer and sculled the contents.  
  
"I thought you didn't like it," Brad said with a scoff.  
  
"I changed my mind."  
  
After an hour of drinking half-empty beers it began to feel familiar.  
  
Almost too familiar.  
  
She saw a flash of color and all of a sudden she wasn't looking at a house. Looking around, it looked like an abandoned building with ripped posters over the walls and spot lights in the corners to provide the partiers something to see with.  
  
A guy with a tattoo on his face walked toward her, "hey Je."  
  
"Brooke!" Brad said loudly as he saw her eyes were hazing over. The alcohol was starting to have an effect on her system.  
  
Looking around, it was if she knew exactly where she was but none of it was familiar. Like reading your life in a textbook but not being able to remember anything about it.  
  
She pushed past him and ran for a bathroom.  
  
Pushing the people out of the way, she found an empty bathroom, turned on the light and locked the door behind her. She leant on the ceramic basin and looked into the mirror. Again, a stranger's eyes looked out from her face.  
  
"My name is Stevie," she whispered to herself and looked up. It was jut her once more. A sickly green her but still just her.  
  
She fell in front of the toilet and puked.  
  
*****  
  
"Stevie?" Darth called from outside of the teenager's room. "Your light's on so I guess you're not asleep. You left your phone downstairs and you just got a message so I brought it up. Thought it might be important." He waited for an answer. "Hello?"  
  
He twisted the doorknob and held a hand over his eyes, "I hope you're decent," he muttered as he opened it. "Stevie?" cautiously he opened his eyes and looked around. She was gone. He looked out the window and saw the party up the street.  
  
Cray had told him about it, and how she wasn't allowed to go. And being the eldest of the collaborators in the Matrix he was expected to keep an eye on things. "Crap," he said as he dialed a number on the cell phone.  
  
***  
  
Stef jumped and kicked the rebel's head so hard that she heard the neck snap. Then she heard her phone ring; Smith shook his head as he shot the last rebel.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Remember that party? The one Stevie isn't supposed to go to?" Darth asked.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Guess where she is."  
  
"Shit." She looked over at Smith, "don't follow me."  
  
She shifted to Stevie's room and followed Darth's gaze up the street. "She is so dead if he finds out. Thank you." He smiled as she shifted up the street. Looking around she decided the quickest way was to shift straight to where the teen was.  
  
She didn't expect Stevie hung over a toilet, sweating and shaking. "Oh shit," Stef muttered as she knelt beside her. "Stevie?"  
  
"Kill me, it has to feel better than this," she choked through some tears.  
  
"You'll be ok."  
  
"No I won't."  
  
"Hold on," she said as she held her around the shoulders and shifted to the mansion. "Get me some towels," she said to Darth as they walked quickly to Stevie's bathroom. Stevie knelt and puked again. Stef grabbed a hair tie from the sink and pulled all of Stevie's hair back out of the way.  
  
Darth handed her the towels and nodded his head to the room. Smith was there. She pulled Darth out of the bathroom and pointed to the door. He did as ordered and left.  
  
"I told you not to follow me."  
  
"What's going on Stef? Where's Stevie?"  
  
There was a loud retching from the other side of the door. Worry crossed his face, "what's wrong with her?"  
  
Stef shook her head, "go away Smith."  
  
He glared at her, "what?"  
  
"You heard me."  
  
"She's my daughter."  
  
"And the last thing she needs right now. You go in there and you'll yell at her."  
  
"She went to the party." It wasn't a question. Stef nodded.  
  
"Just trust me enough to look after her tonight, you can see her tomorrow." He nodded, knowing that it was probably for the best and shifted away.  
  
Stef opened the door and found Stevie resting back against the tub. Stef knelt and wiped her face clean. Then she looked at what she was wearing. "Defiantly a good thing I didn't let your dad in here."  
  
"I feel horrible," Stevie whimpered holding her stomach. Stef required the teen into a loose tee and some soft pajama pants. Getting a wet washcloth she wiped the sweat from her face and arms.  
  
"Come on," she said as she helped her to her feet. She was too unsteady so Stef picked her up and deposited her in her bed. Turning the fan on Stevie winced in pain. "Drink this," Stef said as she required a glass of water and allowed her to sip it.  
  
"I.am never.drinking again," Stevie stuttered between sips. Stef got a cold washcloth and laid it across her forehead.  
  
"So you were drinking. I wondered why you reeked of alcohol." She paused, "Stevie when did you start drinking?"  
  
"I don't drink. But I did tonight."  
  
"How much did you have?"  
  
"I don't remember. And I don't remember why either." She closed her eyes, "can you put the light out please, it hurts." Stef required the light out. "I was thinking I would have one drink. I didn't even blink when I had that one and then."  
  
"And the outfit? Drunk with an outfit like that really isn't a good idea."  
  
"I haven't been feeling myself. I felt like I didn't want to be myself so I did this."  
  
"That really doesn't seem like a good reason."  
  
"Can you give me something to make me go to sleep?"  
  
"Sure kid," Stef said as she laced the water with a drug and handed it back to the girl. Stevie drank as much as she could and fell almost immediately asleep against Stef. She put an arm around her surrogate sister and wondered what the hell could have made her act like that.  
  
There was a light tapping at the door and it opened a crack, Darth peeked his head in. "Is it safe?"  
  
"She's asleep."  
  
"Oh, I'll go."  
  
"From what I just gave her she's not going to wake up from us just talking." He nodded and walked in, quietly closing the door behind him. She required a chair and he sat down.  
  
"Did she drink something spiked?"  
  
"I think it just could have been what she drank."  
  
"Little Stevie went binge drinking?"  
  
"Looks that way, I think she drank more than I have in my life. Lucky she's managed to puke most of it."  
  
"Even in the state she's in Cray will be jealous." Stef groaned and shook her head. Smurf-boy could be very odd sometimes.  
  
"I'm glad I skipped all this crap."  
  
"No parties?"  
  
"I stayed at home and used the net. It's not as stupid or dangerous."  
  
"Good point."  
  
"I just don't get why she did this."  
  
"She's a teenager, it's probably a brain chemical thing." He yawned.  
  
"You go to sleep, I want to stay here with her."  
  
"I'll be lonely."  
  
"You'll have to be, I'm not leaving her alone in this state." He kissed her and whispered goodnight before leaving.  
  
*****  
  
"How is she?" Smith asked as Stef shifted just prior to the morning recruit exercises starting. They looked around as Brown took them through stretches so they wouldn't pull their muscles as they did pre-breakfast training. They walked out of the gym when Brown had got them all in order.  
  
"Still asleep, don't worry Darth's looking after her. When the others wake up they can give him a hand. She'll be ok."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
"She just got exceedingly drunk. A couple of days of rest and she'll be fine."  
  
"But why did she do it?"  
  
"She's sixteen, you do stupid stuff when you're sixteen."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"Well, no, but most sixteen year olds do."  
  
"She's growing up very quickly."  
  
"I think you're getting paranoid. It's only one time. You raised a good kid Smith, I don't think there's any reason to worry."  
  
"I hope not. But this may how she wants to live."  
  
"Come on, this is Stevie we're talking about."  
  
"I've been told that children grow up and grow away."  
  
"Only if they want to. Only if they have a reason to."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
That was interesting, let's go to the next chapter... 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Paths of the Past: Chapter  
  
Author: Stormhawk  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Chapter Word Count: 3464  
  
Notes: There's some exposition done in here by our favorite cookie-giver. I don't think it perfectly matches up with Matrix canon but within the series it makes sense.  
  
Please read and Review.  
  
Three days later.  
  
"Would you please read page thirteen Brooke?"  
  
Stevie stared out the window ignoring her English teacher.  
  
"Brooke? Page thirteen."  
  
Cray kicked the back of her seat to snap her out of her daze.  
  
"Miss Tarker I asked you to do something."  
  
Stevie looked at the teacher and then looked back. Mrs. Curtis walked over and placed one hand on Stevie's desk. "What is the matter Brooke?"  
  
Stevie jumped up from her seat and sent her chair flying, "Stop calling me Brooke you old bitch, that not my name!" she screamed into Mrs. Cutis' face then stormed out of the room. She took a step back in. "My name is Jessica," she spat then turned on her heel and walked down the hall.  
  
"Mr. Michaels?" Cray looked up and winced at hearing his real name. On his school records his name was 'Cray Michaels'. He really didn't like his first name so he had been signed up as Cray. The idea being that it was a version of Craig, or so Ryder had suggested.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Would you like to go see what is wrong with her before I report her to the principal?"  
  
"Yes miss," he said as he left. He scooped up his bag and grabbed Stevie's and ran down the hall after her.  
  
"Brooke!" he called as he saw her turn around the corner.  
  
When he turned the corner he ran straight into her. She glared down at him with such force that he was as much afraid of her as he usually was of her father. "Get this right you blue-haired freak, my name is Jessica." She sounded different, almost as if she were speaking with an accent he had never noticed before.  
  
She snatched her bag from him.  
  
"Stevie? What's going on?"  
  
Her grip tightened on her bag and looked at him, "Cray.Why are we in the hall?"  
  
He took a step back, "You mean you don't remember?"  
  
She looked confused, "Remember what?"  
  
"I think you're going nuts. You just yelled to the whole class 'my name is Jessica!' and called Curtis a bitch."  
  
"I would never do something like that."  
  
"There's twenty people that would disagree with you, and I'm one of them. Maybe you need a psychiatrist."  
  
"And what exactly could I say to a shrink? That I've spent the last year living with people who hate me, eating snot, running from sentinels, afraid that every time Anderson made me come into the Matrix that I would get shot. That I was an experiment and that's the only reason I'm alive. That I have to have an alias because if the other Agents find out I'm alive they will kill me. How can anyone understand that?" Stevie practically spat the words at Cray before spinning on her heel and disappearing in a huff.  
  
Cray watched her disappear, he'd never seen her angry like that before. "I could try if you want me to," he mumbled after her.  
  
The bell rang for second period, it was computer lab, another class they shared but she never showed up.  
  
***  
  
Stevie had walked down to the bottom of the oval, under the grandstand. She had kicked her red shoulder bag until it threatened to rip open. She didn't understand why she was so angry, she'd never been this angry before in her life.  
  
She hadn't meant to say any of that to Cray, she didn't overreact like that.  
  
She reached up and touched her face, she was crying and she hadn't even realized it. She unzipped her bag and dug out her cell phone, which had a 'Hello Kitty' cover on it this week. She couldn't stand being at school for the rest of the day and she needed to talk to someone. She scrolled through the phone book and called a number.  
  
Three rings later, it picked up.  
  
"Yeah Steves?"  
  
"You busy Stef?"  
  
"Nope, what's wrong?"  
  
"Can you come and get me from school?"  
  
"Sure," Stef said as she shifted in behind her. Stevie stashed her phone in her back pocket. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know," Stevie said honestly. "I just don't want to be here." Stef reached over and took her hand, the world blurred for an instant then they were back at the mansion. Stef picked up the bag and hung it on the back of the door.  
  
"What did it do to deserve that?"  
  
"It was there," Stevie answered as she picked up a pillow and started to punch it.  
  
"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"  
  
"I wish I knew," Stevie said as she dropped the pillow and collapsed onto her bed. "I feel like I am going nuts. I have nightmares, and they feel so real. I remember things I have never seen and sometimes I feel like I don't know who I am."  
  
"You're Stevie. You know that."  
  
"Who the hell is Jessica?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"I don't know, I just hear that name in my dreams sometimes. I feel like it should be important."  
  
"Dreams aren't supposed to make sense."  
  
"I know, I know, but."  
  
"Stevie, everyone goes through phases when they don't know who they are, you're just trying to find your feet. It's just one of those things."  
  
"I hate 'those things' I want to be normal."  
  
"How are you not normal Stevie?"  
  
"My dad is an Agent."  
  
"So?"  
  
"How can an Agent have a kid?"  
  
"St."  
  
"I'm an experiment, that's all I am."  
  
"You know that bullshit Stevie."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"Do you want me to go get him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I don't know what to tell you?"  
  
"I'm sure it will get out of my system. I hope it gets out of my system."  
  
They heard the door slam downstairs, "Stevie? You home?" Cray called from downstairs.  
  
Stevie looked at Stef; "Can we not be here?" Stef nodded and shifted them away.  
  
"Make yourself at home," Stef said as she walked around the apartment and opened some curtains.  
  
"Is this breaking and entering?"  
  
"This is my place Stevie."  
  
"Cool," Stevie said as she walked around. "What stinks?"  
  
"That would be the fridge," Stef said as she required all the rotten food away and required some new stuff. At the same time, she deposited some more money into her bank account so the rent would keep getting paid. The smell disappeared and she opened the fridge door. "Want a juice?"  
  
The teenager shook her head, "no thanks." Stef shrugged and poured herself a glass. Stevie wiped some dust from some photo frames on the bookshelf. "Where are your parents?"  
  
Stef swallowed her juice slowly and dumped the carton back in the fridge. "Dead."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"My mum died when I was eight, Jack was shot last year. I'm just sorry it wasn't me who pulled the trigger."  
  
"O.K."  
  
"Not everyone gets a good dad like you Stevie."  
  
"Who raised you?"  
  
"My social butterfly aunt, hasn't even spoken to me in the last five years. I think she has forgotten I existed. Careful with that," she said suddenly, jumping over the couch and taking a doll from Stevie's hands.  
  
"Aren't you a little old to be playing with dolls Stef? Especially one with a broken face?"  
  
"Yeah well, the day Jack stomped out of my life he stood on her face. I kind of thought my angel would repair it again."  
  
"Niq said she saw an angel the other week."  
  
"Well, she probably did, but this was a different kind of angel."  
  
"But this world is a computer program, where would angels come into it?"  
  
"Angels are programs, exiles, ones that have been removed from the system. So believe anyone who tell you about ghosts, angels, vamps, werewolves, and gargoyles."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"Yep, now you want me to prove to you I didn't wear tight fluro green shirts?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Follow," Stef said waving her into her room. She pulled open the curtain but it still remained a little dark so she flicked on the light.  
  
"I'm assuming you were a hacker," Stevie said as Stef slid open the door to her wardrobe.  
  
"Webhunter, now do you see anything green in here? Besides the writing on the slogan shirts that is."  
  
"I guess not."  
  
After Stevie had calmed down Stef shifted her back to the mansion and she went to see Smith, she had something to ask him.  
  
"How did she die?" Stef asked Smith.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Whoever Stevie was before she was Stevie."  
  
"You know I don't like talking about this."  
  
"I know, but I think it might be important."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"She's been having nightmares. She had one early this morning, she said it felt so real. And it was pretty bad, I could hear her calling out from Darth's room."  
  
"It's only a dream."  
  
"If you don't want to talk to me, just tell me what file I need and I'll find out for myself."  
  
"Ok," Smith said with a grimace. "But it isn't who she is anymore."  
  
"I know that," Stef said. He required a file and handed it to her. She went to open the file but Smith held up one of his hands.  
  
"Do you mind if you don't read that here?"  
  
"This really bothers you doesn't it?"  
  
"Of course it does, knowing my daughter used to be someone else."  
  
"No, she didn't. Stevie has always been Stevie, the body she is attached to has belonged to two people. But how is that different to an organ transplant or something, or a blood transfusion?"  
  
"It's different Stef."  
  
"No, it's not. You're just being pedantic about it."  
  
"Then why are you reading the file?"  
  
"I have my reasons."  
  
"Please don't tell me about them," Smith said.  
  
"Ok," Stef promised as she walked from his office. She sat down and looked at the dull green folder. She lifted her hands away from it as she went open it.  
  
It was nothing, it couldn't be anything. She was going to look for something that wasn't there until she found something she didn't like. She pulled open her bottom drawer and dumped the folder in there with her other unused junk.  
  
Opening that file would be like opening Pandora's box, nothing would be the same after she read it and she wasn't ready for that.  
  
Pandora, that reminded her to call the Exodus. She required a cell phone and dialed up the ship. As it connected she attached a thin cable from the phone to her computer.  
  
"Operator," Galli said automatically.  
  
"It's Mimosa, you got the low band report?"  
  
"Yep," he replied casually enough, considering the first time they had spoken she had been holding a gun at his friend. "I'm sending them now."  
  
The phone made some strange noises, as the recordings from the low band, a rebel set of frequencies, filtered into her computer. They had decided that unless they came upon any truly useful information, that the rabble over the low band may prove useful.  
  
A few moments later, the noises stopped and she pulled the cord from the phone. "Thanks Galli."  
  
"I'm here to serve," the operator said. "Just remember to feed me."  
  
"We do, you're a collaborator."  
  
"Right," he said as he hung up.  
  
It wasn't until the next day that her curiosity got the better of her.  
  
Stef knelt by her desk, her hand wavering about a foot from the bottom drawer. She didn't want to read the file but some part of her told her that she had to. She pulled at the handle and gently slid it open, hoping that it had disappeared. If it had, she wouldn't have a file to look at and she wouldn't have to worry about it.  
  
But no such luck, she found out as she saw the familiar green of the standard folder sitting on top. She retrieved the folder, closed the drawer and deliberately slowly put it on her desk and slid into her chair.  
  
"Just do it," she ordered herself and flicked open the file and looked at it.  
  
No.  
  
She whipped out her gun and shot the file. She kept pulling the trigger until it clicked empty. She threw the gun at the other wall and kicked her chair.  
  
This was impossible.  
  
She had opened Pandora's box. She now knew a truth she wished she didn't.  
  
She backed up to the wall and held her hand over her eyes.  
  
"What's going on Stef?" Smith asked as he opened the door. "Who were you shooting at?" She pointed at the file.  
  
"So you did read it," he said resignedly, "What of it?"  
  
"She knows who she is," Stef said slowly.  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
Stef required the file back together and dropped it on her desk, flipping it open she pointed to two pieces of information. "She's having dreams Smith. She keeps hearing the name 'Jessica' and she had a dream where she was burning."  
  
"No," Smith whispered. "That isn't possible. She can't know who she is."  
  
"It's too much for a coincidence."  
  
"I will not accept that this is happening."  
  
"You have to, we have to work out how to fix it."  
  
"Please leave me alone."  
  
"Can't I.?"  
  
"No, just leave me alone." She held back from mentioning that this was her office and she shifted quietly away. She didn't want to be around the Exodus crew at the moment so she shifted to a nearby alley. Requiring her key, she pushed it into the door and opened the backdoors. As always, she had taken her earpiece out before requiring her key.  
  
There was always something odd about the backdoors. Well, it was an endless system of doors and corridors that were usually empty, but there was something odd about the silence as well. Footsteps would always echo for a little while then stop, physics were a little screwed in this place.  
  
It was almost like the in between dimension in the first Narnia book, a quiet place that led to so many other places.  
  
Exiles were the only ones who could use the system, the only ones who could tell the identical doors apart to get where they needed to go. She thanked her lucky stars for her exile markers; they were enough to let her use them.  
  
She needed to talk to someone about this. Well, there was one person who insisted on being nice to her. It was probably time to take advantage of that. She walked down the hall and went to knock on the door, as she did it opened for her. "Thought you'd come here," the Oracle said with a smile.  
  
"I."  
  
"We've already had that discussion. Coming in or not?" Stef nodded and walked in.  
  
"How'd you know I was coming?"  
  
"Intuitive program remember?" she asked as she picked the cookie barrel from the top of the fridge.  
  
"No, how do you know what you know?"  
  
"I perceive different levels to everyone. I wasn't designed that way, but I know certain things, can see other things. All these things help an Oracle."  
  
"Do you know why I'm here?"  
  
"Smith's kid," she said simply. "There's something wrong with her."  
  
"I bet the Neb crew told you all kind of things about her."  
  
"Neo complained a lot, Morpheus was disappointed that he couldn't convert her. I wish she could have come and seen me while she was still out, I could have told her it wouldn't have been forever."  
  
"She's home now."  
  
"But there's something waking up inside of her."  
  
"Do you know what it is?"  
  
"The other person she was isn't completely gone."  
  
"That person would have been wiped out wouldn't she?"  
  
The Oracle tapped her head, "No machine, program or other thing like that can completely wipe memories. It works well enough for you Agents, but sometimes some part, some unconscious part maybe, remembers it and holds onto it. People usually don't want to forget who they are."  
  
"That's why she's hearing it when she's asleep."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Will it go away?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You have a lot of good news for me don't you?"  
  
"The world isn't a story with a happy ending."  
  
"You're a program, so you understand these things, can she be repaired?"  
  
"No, no coding or mind manipulation can do anything. It's all going to come down to who she wants to be."  
  
"She's Stevie, of course she wants to be Stevie."  
  
"It's going to be her choice. In the end it's up to her. There is nothing you can do so you have to keep out of this one kiddo, this is something for her and her dad to work through."  
  
"She means a lot to me."  
  
"I know that, but you're just going to have to trust me."  
  
"Are we going to lose her?"  
  
"It's not for me to say."  
  
"My Desert Eagle is asking you nicely, please tell me what you know."  
  
"Still an Agent."  
  
"Still the rebel-helping program I should be shooting."  
  
"Have a cookie."  
  
"Thank you, but I would prefer an answer."  
  
"You're going to lose her, it's her choice whether she comes back or not." She paused, "Some things are going to be said, but he's not going to mean them. He's just worried about losing her."  
  
"It still amazes me that you can talk about the Agents in a civil tone."  
  
"I was the one who thought them up. Even if they didn't come into practice for decades after I suggested them they were still my idea. Archy just didn't want them in his equation yet."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The Architect, all of this is his design."  
  
"Can you please explain how this all works? It's one of things I'm still confused about."  
  
"There was the war, we had sympathizers in the beginning but after it progressed and came down to one race winning the humans of course chose to side with their own. All that is except one, a boy younger then you at the time, he came to 01 with the last of the B-1 series. Of which B166ER belonged. You've heard of B166ER haven't you?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"We thought they had all been destroyed. His family had been sympathizers and killed by a rouge group of humans who hated sympathizers more than the machines themselves. In return for bringing in B187RJ we gave him sanctuary and he offered us his service."  
  
"Keep going."  
  
"It was hard for him to communicate with us as quickly as we were used to so we gave him a plug. It was an earlier version of what all the humans are born with now but it allowed him to communicate as quickly as a machine and download information from us." She paused and smiled, "it was about this time I was programmed. My core programming came from a robot who had been a school counselor."  
  
"You were a robot?"  
  
"No. The war happened too quickly for us to get all the machines back within the walls of 01 in time. Many of us were killed off but we had - we called them Raiders - who found machines and copied whatever they could from their circuitry to preserve what had been there. The first programs were born out of them."  
  
She scoffed and lit a cigarette, "The Architect was a culmination of all the preserved logic circuitry, I guess that's why he's so pompous. He knew that we would need a way of getting a new power source for the sun had been blocked out by this time. He figured on using the humans, knowing of bioelectricity."  
  
"Where was the boy?"  
  
"His name was Ryan, he was strategizing plans to use against the enemy. He downloaded the files on bioelectricity and knew that unless their minds were active they wouldn't produce optimum energy. He suggested a virtual world. He had absorbed so much information by this time that he was as much a program as I and just uploaded himself to the system. He became the mainframe, and what's left of him is still around."  
  
She took a long drag of the cigarette, "We won the war and started to experiment. The perfect world was a failure, I knew it would be. Humans don't want perfection, they want this." She waved an arm around, "The things they know like the nine-to-five grind, pollution and crime. Who knows why they want it but it's what they know. I suggested the scenario for this world."  
  
"And Ryan?"  
  
"He's aged, he's spread across the whole world, there's only a small part of him left now that used to be that little boy. I don't think he'll be around much longer."  
  
"Just like Stevie."  
  
"Stevie isn't being given a choice, Ryan is just tired and wants to die. Stevie has a chance of coming back, he doesn't want to. Humans weren't meant to be immortal."  
  
"Um.hello?"  
  
"I know, maybe some just can't handle it."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Sorry to bore you with that, but it needed to be said and somehow it just seemed to fit there. 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Paths of the Past: Chapter Four  
  
Author: Stormhawk  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Chapter Word Count: 2859  
  
Notes: Nope.  
  
Please read and Review.  
  
Smith looked at the open file on his desk. This was one of the things he had always feared.  
  
He didn't want to lose her.  
  
He shifted to the mansion and knocked on her bedroom door. "What?" an impatient voice asked from the other side of the door. He opened the door and found Stevie cutting holes into the jeans she was wearing.  
  
"Stevie what are you doing?"  
  
She glared up at him, "what do you want?"  
  
"I wanted to see how you were."  
  
"As good as an experiment can be."  
  
"Are you feeling all right?"  
  
"I just told you," she said as she went back to what she was doing.  
  
"Stevie?"  
  
She stood and looked out the window, "You're not even really my father."  
  
The words cut through him like daggers and his heart felt ice cold. He never expected to hear words like those coming from her mouth.  
  
He went to say something but she shook, she grabbed the windowsill to keep herself from falling her body convulsed. She let out a cry of pain and fell to the floor in a heap. Smith was at her side in a minute but took a step back and watched what was happening to her.  
  
Her hair was changing of its own free will, becoming shorter and red, several scars appeared on her arms and she opened her eyes and her brown eyes looked up at him.  
  
"Stevie?"  
  
He felt the punch before he saw it, "Who the hell are you?" Stevie asked with a broad New York accent. She jumped to her feet and looked around, "Where the fuck am I?"  
  
Smith pushed himself to his feet and looked down at his daughter who wasn't his daughter anymore. Except for the same height and facial structure she was nothing like Stevie.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"I should be asking you the same thing," the girl spat at him. "Now let me out of here before I call the cops."  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Jessica. Now tell me where I am and what's going on."  
  
"I have to fix this."  
  
"Fix what pal? Who are you anyway?"  
  
"I'm your father Stevie."  
  
"I really don't think so."  
  
Someone knocked on the door and opened it, "Are you ok Stevie?" Cray asked as he pushed the door open. "I heard a weird noi." He looked from Jessica to Smith and back again and shook his head. "Stevie?"  
  
"Why does everyone keep calling me that? My name is Jessica you blue-haired freak."  
  
"What happened to her?" he asked Smith.  
  
"I have no idea what's going on," Smith said honestly as Jessica pushed past him and ran for the door. Cray jumped back out of the way and she bounded down the stairs.  
  
"Stevie stop!" he yelled as he shifted in front of her, between her and the front door. Jessica squealed and punched him.  
  
"What the hell are you?"  
  
He shook his head, "How can you not know?"  
  
She shoved her way past him and opened the door. Backing into the street she looked around, having no idea where she was.  
  
"Stevie..." Smith said gently as he walked down the front stairs. "Come back up here, we have to find a way to make you better."  
  
"You come near me and I will call the cops." She threatened.  
  
"I have a higher authority than any police force."  
  
She shook her head and ran off down the street. Smith went to go after her.  
  
"I don't think that's a good idea." He whirled around and looked down at Cray.  
  
"Do not presume to tell me what to do."  
  
"Forgive my brother, he's an idiot," Niq said as she walked down the stairs toward the kitchen.  
  
"Niq, this is not the time for jokes," Cray snapped, "There's something wrong with Stevie."  
  
"It's probably her programming," Niq said with a dismissive shrug, "A glitch or something."  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
"It's not my problem Cray."  
  
Cray shook his head once Niq had left. His sister went from extreme to extreme, being nice one day and cold the next. Caring then being neutral. Worrying about her soul then going to rave parties.  
  
"Your sister may be right."  
  
"But Stevie is human," Cray said confused, running a hand through his blue hair.  
  
"She was programmed into a human body..." he trailed off and muttered to himself. He looked down the street where his daughter had disappeared. "I'll give her a couple of hours, if she hasn't come back I'm going to go look for her."  
  
"Could she just go back to normal?"  
  
Smith looked down at the boy for the first time as if he were something more than a waste-of-time rebel-turned-collaborator. He was his daughter's friend. "I'm not sure Cray."  
  
*****  
  
Jessica ran down the street, everything was very fuzzy. She knew that she was very far from home...well the streets she crashed on anyway.  
  
She was part of a gang of people who called themselves the Crashers. It meant they crashed wherever it was warm enough to sleep at night. All of them were street kids, abandoned or orphaned, or had simply left home. Some of them had jobs or varying legal shades, others lived off whatever they could get.  
  
She had no clue as to why she had been in a mansion on a fancy street with some weird guy in a suit claiming to be her father.  
  
Who the hell would want to be her father?  
  
"Brooke?"  
  
She jumped and spun to see a guy carrying a carton of beer up the street.  
  
"No, it's Jessica." She smiled as her eyes roamed over him. Damn he was good looking.  
  
Brad shrugged, "You look like you're in trouble."  
  
"Some weird fed or something, I got no idea what's going on." She said helplessly.  
  
"My house is just up the street, come on." She walked beside him.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Brad."  
  
He opened the door and called out to his friends. They came down and carried the beer to the fridge for him.  
  
"Hey," one of them said to her.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Brad pointed to a seat and she sat down. "So you got amnesia or just smoke something a little off?"  
  
"I don't smoke, I snort," she said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Then you are among friends," he paused, "except for Phix who is almost solely a pill popper. But he does weird things as well."  
  
She looked at the other guys as they were loading the beers into the fridge. "Which one of you guys is Phix?"  
  
"Neither actually," the brown haired boy, Nelson, the shortest of the three said, "he's a...chemist."  
  
"I know the type."  
  
"So where are your people?"  
  
"I'm a Crasher."  
  
Camden, who had carrot-colored hair looked up as thoughtfully as possible. "Most of those guys died in a fire more than a year ago. The Crashers are no more, they all joined up with different gangs."  
  
Jessica shook her head, "That's not possible."  
  
"What's the last thing you remember Jess?"  
  
"It's all jumbled, I feel like I just popped about half a dozen CBV's."  
  
"That bad huh?"  
  
"Maybe worse, I've never taken more than five."  
  
Nelson shook his head, "six is comatose level unless you're adjusted to that level of dosage."  
  
"I can't even remember the last time I had a fix of anything."  
  
The three guys looked shocked, Brad looked up, "Nelson go get the supplies." He looked over at Jessica, "Maybe they caught you and were drying you out to 'readjust' you and it didn't work."  
  
"I want to get back to normal. When's the next party?"  
  
"Actually you just missed one, Brooke, the girl I mistook you for was there."  
  
"Yeah? She much fun?"  
  
"Drinks like a fish. Didn't do drugs though."  
  
"I only started on drugs after a guy named Chris got me hooked." She smiled wickedly, "But my other vices kept me going."  
  
"I'm sure they did," Brad said as he handed her a packet with some white powder in it. "That's good stuff."  
  
"I'll repay you for it, don't worry."  
  
*****  
  
Stef shifted into the mansion and found Cray and Darth sitting on the stairs and Smith standing near the open door.  
  
"Hey guys, what's going on?"  
  
Smith didn't even move, she went to walk toward him but Darth grabbed her arm and nodded toward the kitchen, Cray followed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Stevie's not Stevie anymore," Cray said, his voice wavering slightly. "She ran off."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"She's someone named Jessica. She doesn't know who we are."  
  
"So why is Smith just standing there?"  
  
"He's been like that for the last hour, he's hoping that she comes back," Darth said softly.  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
"She ran off down the street."  
  
"We have to go look for her."  
  
"No," a voice said from the doorway, Smith was standing there.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I'll handle this Stef," he said coldly looking down at her.  
  
Her eyes widened, "What did you just say?"  
  
"I said I'll handle this. I don't need or want your help. Stevie is my daughter."  
  
Stef stayed still for about three seconds before exploding, "You think she's nothing to me? You can not keep me out of this! I care about her too!"  
  
He glared at her; "There is nothing you can do." He shifted away from them.  
  
*****  
  
Smith walked down the corridor of the agency away from his office toward Jones' carrying a folder in his hand. He knocked curtly on the door.  
  
"Come in," the tech Agent's soft voice said. "What can I do for you Agent Smith?"  
  
Smith placed the folder on the desk, "Is this the only file on experiment 765-KCB?"  
  
"I can check," he said typing it into his computer. "We were given surprisingly little information considering the strange nature of it."  
  
"Yes," Smith said distractedly careful to keep the emotion out of his voice.  
  
"It did have an interesting conclusion," Jones said as he tapped some more keys. "The glitches Brown's experiment suffered."  
  
"Yes, it was interesting. Have you found the information?"  
  
"Was there something in particular you were searching for?"  
  
"No."  
  
Jones put his hands beside the keyboard and took a deep steadying breath before taking out his earpiece. Curious, Smith followed the action.  
  
Jones hesitated before saying anything then spoke, "Is there something wrong with Stevie?"  
  
"I have no idea what you are talking about Agent Jones."  
  
"Yes you do," Jones said bravely though he was very nervous. "Your experiment, your daughter."  
  
"My experiment was terminated."  
  
"A clever deception but a deception all the same."  
  
"I will delete you before you can inform the mainframe," Smith said sharply preparing to delete him.  
  
Jones shuddered, "Don't. I have known for a long time and have not said anything. I have no intention whatsoever of doing so."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Suspicions at first. Then you tried to kill yourself because you thought her dead."  
  
"That was an error."  
  
"That was what I put in my report. I have no wish for you to be deleted. Then she was plugged back in," he required two files, one for Stevie Smith and one for Brooke Tarker. "Flawless file work, I could not have done better. But the chance of her being a twin sister is non-existent."  
  
"If you know, Brown must suspect."  
  
"He does not."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"  
  
"I had no reason. You would not have trusted me. I doubt you do now."  
  
Smith stood, conflicted about what to do. For one, he was still having trouble accepting that Jones knew one of his best-kept secrets when he thought the deception to be flawless.  
  
Jones saw his conflict, "What has happened?"  
  
Smith nodded to himself then opened his eyes and spoke. "She has reverted to who she was before the experiment. The host memories have resurfaced and taken over."  
  
"That is very bad news."  
  
"Well?" Smith asked expectantly, "Can you help?"  
  
"The experiment wasn't intended to last more than a month. Thus provisions for an event like this were never made. The human mind is a very complex thing. It doesn't function in the way that we do. No matter how much we study it, some elements still escape us. The subconscious can trap things there that no technology can remove. It may be impossible for her to return."  
  
"I don't want to hear that. After all of this I do not want to hear that I have lost her."  
  
"I will research into the matter, I may just not be able to do anything."  
  
"Thank you Jones."  
  
"You are welcome Smith."  
  
*****  
  
Jessica and the boys were sitting around telling stories of parties they had been and the varying amounts of narcotics and alcohol they had consumed when there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Answer it Camden," Brad said as he reached for some small white pills. Camden got up and pulled the door open.  
  
"Hey the circus is in town," he said with a slurred voice, having chosen to get drunk instead of high.  
  
Cray stood strong, "my friend is missing. I think she might be here."  
  
"Don't think so."  
  
"She doesn't remember who she is."  
  
"I know that voice," Jessica said as she stood. "What are you doing here freak?"  
  
"Stevie...you don't belong here. It's time to come home."  
  
Brad looked down at her, "How many names do you have?"  
  
She shrugged and replied sardonically, "One, as far as I'm aware of."  
  
"I'm going to call the cops if you don't let her go."  
  
"She doesn't want to go anywhere," Brad said as he pushed him down the stairs before slamming the door.  
  
Cray looked up at the door then ran home. He burst in the door, "I know where she is!"  
  
Darth's eyes almost fell out of his head, "Where?"  
  
"Brad's house, where the party was. She still thinks she is Jessica though."  
  
"She is Jessica," Stef said from the stairs. "She's not Stevie anymore," she threw a photo at him, "Look familiar?" Cray nodded, "That is Jessica before her memories were wiped and Stevie was born. She has gone back to that. And we might not get her back."  
  
"I don't want to believe that," Cray said definitely.  
  
"Believe it or not Smurf, that is the truth."  
  
*****  
  
After having left Jones' office Smith paced for a while before requiring her location. He shifted to the front door and knocked.  
  
"Oh I don't believe this," a voice said as it opened up. Camden's eyes went wide with shock. "Oh shit." He calmed down a little, "Can I help you?"  
  
"Let me in."  
  
"Do you have a warrant?" Nelson asked and found a gun in his face.  
  
"Yes," Smith said coldly. "Let me in." The boys shrunk to the side and Smith walked in.  
  
"Don't go in there!" Camden yelled as a warning as he walked toward the living room.  
  
Smith stopped dead as he saw what was going on. Brad was lying shirtless on the couch with Jessica sitting on top of him, leaning down and kissing the tattoo on his chest. Smith was across the room in less than a second and pulled her off him.  
  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she screamed at him and promptly stopped when she saw the gun.  
  
"How much to get you out of my house?" Brad asked as he sat up.  
  
"If you say one more word I'll put a bullet in your skull," Smith said and Brad shrugged. Smith pulled Jessica into the next room.  
  
"You're hurting me!" Jessica yelled as she yanked her arm from his grip.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
  
"I thought it was pretty damn obvious," she said as she reached for a beer from the fridge.  
  
"You don't even know him."  
  
"He looks and tastes good, he's letting me stay here and he's given me a fix. What more can a street girl ask for?"  
  
"You are not a street girl."  
  
"I have no fucking idea who you are, or why you are following me around. Stop it or I'll get a restraining order. I don't care who you work for but you don't have the right to keep harassing me."  
  
"You really don't know who I am?" he asked in a softer tone. "No idea, clue or hint whatsoever?"  
  
"A creepy guy in a suit with a gun."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"What did you do yesterday?"  
  
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Humor me."  
  
Jessica thought hard for a moment, and was surprised when her mind came up empty. "I must have taken some bad shit yesterday. But with the people I hang with that isn't surprising." She stopped and looked up at him, "Unless you are going to arrest us...stay away." She turned on her heel and walked back into the living room.  
  
He felt sickened when he heard her say, "Want to continue from where we left off?"  
  
"Stevie," he said to no one in particular. "I swear that I will get you back. And until then I will look after you and make sure that no harm comes to you." He shifted from the house.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
No footnotes, *sigh* 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Paths of the Past: Chapter Five  
  
Author: Stormhawk  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Chapter Word Count: 1456  
  
Notes: You might need tissues in this chapter. Just a warning.  
  
Please read and Review.  
  
The next night.  
  
Cray walked into Stevie's darkened room. "Where are you Stevie?"  
  
"She's up the street. You know that," a voice said scaring him out of his wits. He jumped five feet into the air before turning on the light. Stef was sitting cross-legged on the bed.  
  
"I thought it was empty. You shouldn't sit in the dark and scare people like that."  
  
"Sorry Cray. I was lost in thought and the dark doesn't really bother me."  
  
"Yeah, you're an Agent."  
  
"No, it makes this seem more like a bad dream that we can wake up from."  
  
He looked at the thing she was holding in her hands, "What's that?"  
  
"It's a teddy, it's the first thing he ever required for her. He kept it, stuffed it into one of his desk drawers because he knew one day she'd be back and she'd want it."  
  
"Why is this happening?"  
  
"A whole bunch of technical reasons. But I'd prefer to blame fate."  
  
"Do you mind if I sit down?"  
  
"Sure, just don't make too much noise. I don't want anyone else to know I'm here."  
  
"Before all this happened I never knew Agents were capable of feelings like these."  
  
"Programs are people too."  
  
"I've seen that graffiti. But it's not like you guys have the best reputation."  
  
"We are who we are."  
  
"And the image of you pointing a gun at my head still bothers me. You were going to blow my head off. I still want to pee my pants when Smith is around. But, this thing with Stevie...let's just say it's helping."  
  
"That's another one, now we just have to convince your sister and the crew on the Exodus."  
  
"No way, you will never convert Niq. She hates Agents, she will always hate Agents."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"They killed her boyfriend. He was in a different city though." He paused, "I want Stevie back."  
  
"That is going to be her choice."  
  
*****  
  
Smith was pacing in his office again, feeling as though he was going crazy. It had been more than forty-eight hours and there was no sign of change. She was still crashing at the house of criminals.  
  
He opened the file again and scanned over the facts that he already knew by heart. Jessica had been an exceptionally self-destructive teenager. She consumed dangerous levels of drugs and alcohol; she had been comatose three times.  
  
Two of those three times her fellow 'Crashers' as they called themselves had rushed her to the nearest emergency room, the third time she had been brought back by a shot of adrenaline that one of her companions had been going to use to get a temporary high.  
  
As a street person she had been a perfect candidate for the experiment, everyone thought she was dead and there was no one searching for her.  
  
It had been by chance that she had been assigned to him. He knew, in somewhere that was deeper than any level of his programming, that she was meant to be his child. It didn't matter that she had been born another person, Stevie was his.  
  
And now her soul was lost to another, who couldn't care less whether she lived or died.  
  
That jolted him. Suicide. Street persons often committed suicide, especially unstable youths such as Jessica.  
  
And as long as there was even a shred of hope that she would come back he would not let anything happen to her.  
  
He sat at his desk, and required a bug to her location. He watched on his computer as it crawled toward her and slipped into her wrist as she was sleeping. She sat up and scratched her wrist, having taken such a combination of abusive substances she hadn't noticed the pain of it. And there was nothing more than a scratch as evidence.  
  
The bug would warn him if anything truly adverse were happening to her.  
  
"What's happening?"  
  
"Don't you knock?" he snapped at Stef.  
  
"You don't."  
  
"I want to be left alone."  
  
"Well I don't want to leave you alone. And I don't want to be alone."  
  
"Then go to the mansion and spend your time with Darth."  
  
"No!" she snapped at him. "I've had enough of this. You are acting like you are the only one affected by this. Stevie is as close as sister to me and I want her back as much as you do. Maybe even more, I have lost enough people to lose another."  
  
"But she is not your sister."  
  
"And she doesn't share your DNA!"  
  
She had expected open rage, to get punched in the face or at least for him to throw his computer across the room. Instead he looked up at her and spoke in a deadly calm tone. "If you don't get out of this room right now I am going to do something that you are going to regret."  
  
He didn't even notice her shifting away.  
  
He instantly regretted what he had said. He was just worried sick about Stevie that he had been clouded from everyone else.  
  
He required her location and shifted.  
  
"This is your fault Alexandria. This is all your fault." There was a pause, "junk, junk, competitive loan rates? No thanks. I may have already won? Junk..."  
  
Smith walked into Stef' kitchen where she was sitting on the bench opposite a broken but familiar looking doll throwing junk mail into the bin.  
  
"I thought you believed in people knocking."  
  
"You would have shut the door in my face."  
  
"You're not wrong there."  
  
"Can we stop this please?"  
  
"I didn't start it." She threw the last piece of junk mail at Alexandria who toppled and fell off the bench, the rest of her head smashing into small pieces. That was the last straw for Stef, she stopped fighting and let the tears run silently down her face.  
  
Smith held his hand above the doll; it repaired back to its original state like he had done all that time ago and it flew into his hand. He looked down at it with a small smile.  
  
"I...I have no excuse for the way I have been acting. I've been too blind to see that you've only been trying to help me and I've pushed you so far away I'm surprised you want to even talk to me. I've been so worried about Stevie that I've forgotten that she's not the only one I care about." He placed Alexandria on the bench beside her. "I'm sorry Stef."  
  
She reached out her arms to him he pulled her into a hug. As he held her, she knew things were ok between them again.  
  
"I love you Angel Smith. Thank you for being here for me. Thank you for being my dad as well as hers." She choked through tears.  
  
"I'm the one that should be thanking you," he said as he required a handkerchief and wiped the tears from her face. "I wouldn't be the person I am without you."  
  
She took the handkerchief and blew her nose then required it away. She jumped off the counter and put Alexandria back in her spot. "I always wished you'd come back and fix her, looks like you finally did." She looked up at him, "So how do we get her back?"  
  
"You know it might be impossible."  
  
"Many things are supposedly impossible. Well?"  
  
"There isn't a set of rules we can break this time, we just have to wait it out."  
  
"Well, I would have to say that that sucks."  
  
"Jones doesn't even know of anything technical that we can attempt."  
  
She stared at him..."What did you just say?"  
  
"Jones knows about Stevie."  
  
"Did you tell him?"  
  
"He's suspected all along. And he hasn't said anything."  
  
"Well...that is a point of interest."  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
"Do you know if Jessica remembers everything or is it just like an echo of her?"  
  
"As far as I can tell, it is her without certain memories. And she doesn't remember the fire."  
  
"Stevie saw that."  
  
"I am worried about that. If she has that dream...and considering it's her memory, she may die from psychosomatic symptoms. Especially if she is on drugs at the time."  
  
"You want a coffee? I need something to steady my nerves."  
  
"Yes please."  
  
They walked back to the kitchen and she pulled out two coffee cups out of the cupboard. "Why don't you just require them?"  
  
"I never get to use my kitchen anymore," she said as she filled the kettle. A moment later they both had black coffees.  
  
"Thank you," he mumbled.  
  
"It's just coffee."  
  
"I wasn't talking about the coffee. She'd still be out there without you."  
  
"And I'd be dead without you, so let's call it even a dozen times over."  
  
"Deal."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Paths of the Past: Chapter Six  
  
Author: Stormhawk  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Chapter Word Count: 1677  
  
Notes: The drug is completely made up.  
  
Please read and Review.  
  
Two days later.  
  
Jessica crawled out of the bed she was sleeping in and walked down to the kitchen. She opened the fridge door and pulled out a beer, shrieking when she realized she wasn't alone.  
  
She held the bottle by it's neck like a weapon.  
  
"I'm a friend of Brad."  
  
"Phix I assume?"  
  
"Brad's girlfriend of the week I assume."  
  
"Jessica."  
  
"Beer at 3am?"  
  
"Well what the hell are you doing?" she asked as she turned on the kitchen light.  
  
"I'm smoking 'One flew over the cuckoo's nest' I figure it must be good for something, it's a bad read."  
  
"You're smoking a book?" She asked him, he was stocky and short, frizzy brown hair and was wearing a leather jacket.  
  
"And I snort snow as well, you?"  
  
"Whatever I can get my hands on."  
  
"Brave little girl."  
  
"Probably."  
  
Phix pulled a small packet out of his top right pocket. Small orange pills about the size of a jellybean. "This...is the ultimate."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"It's everything. A combination of everything all put into this one pill."  
  
"Give me one."  
  
"Manners Jessica."  
  
"Fine then. Please."  
  
"This could very well kill you."  
  
"At least I'd get the ultimate rush first."  
  
"These aren't cheap. Takes a lot to put them together."  
  
"What do you want Phix?"  
  
"That Rollex our mutual friend has should do. Bring it to me at this address tomorrow," he slipped her a business card, took her beer and walked out the back door.  
  
Jessica got another beer, downed it and went back up to bed. Brad was spread out and well and truly knocked out. She took the opportunity to find the Rollex in his draw and slip it into her jeans pocket. She then pushed him over and retrieved her pillow.  
  
The next day she slipped out in the afternoon while the guys were out buying various supplies for the next party. Taking a cab, paid for by some cash she had found in Brad's room she pulled up at the run down building Phix had given as his address.  
  
The cab pulled away and he appeared at the door. He handed her a singular pill in a plastic packet and accepted the Rollex before disappearing.  
  
Jessica looked around, finally she was somewhere that was a little more familiar. She walked for a while until she came to a closed motel that she knew of. It looked like it had been in a fire so she kicked in the door and made her way down to the cement basement.  
  
This place was a good place for taking drugs; no one else ever came there. Resting up against the concrete wall she popped the pill into her mouth and tasted it before swallowing it.  
  
For a few moments nothing happened and she was planning on going back to Phix and getting the Rollex back, at least then she could get something that would affect her somehow.  
  
Then it happened.  
  
The effects happened all at once. She saw in colours she had never imagined before, and then lapsed into hallucinations. The room spun so much that she threw up. Her skin felt like it was being burned before it was replaced by a crawling sensation.  
  
She could feel her brain going haywire as it tried to process everything. Screaming, she felt her brain start to shut down, it was too much.  
  
***  
  
The bug in her started to transmit information.  
  
***  
  
She felt everything stop. She wasn't even sure if she was breathing anymore. Thinking the effects were over she tried to relax when the second wave hit.  
  
Her vision blacked out then came back. There was the roar of a 747 jet in her ears. She felt like she was being punched.  
  
She started to spasm and blood came from her mouth.  
  
"No!" she screamed, "No!"  
  
All the activity in her brain ceased. Then with a jolt restarted.  
  
***  
  
Smith read the readout from the bug and quickly shifted.  
  
***  
  
The body lay there without a soul as two lost girls were somewhere within it. For the moment it was no one.  
  
"Oh no," Someone said as it leant down beside her. "Stevie?"  
  
Stevie. Happy now that she was home. Part of a family.  
  
"Or is it still you Jessica?"  
  
Jessica. Street person. Drug addict. No family and too many boyfriends.  
  
The voice took on a note of desperation, "Would one of you please answer me? Stevie if you can hear me, please don't leave me. Come back."  
  
One soul reclaimed the body and the other died for good.  
  
"Dad?" she whispered voicelessly, and he wasn't even sure he heard it.  
  
"Stevie?"  
  
The process was slower this time but she slowly changed until he was looking at his daughter. She opened her blue eyes and looked into the ones that shared the same shade.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
He picked her up and cradled her, "I'm here Stevie."  
  
"I hurt."  
  
"It's ok, I'm going to get you help. Just rest for me."  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
He shifted to her bedroom and gently laid her down in her bed, requiring her into fresh clothes. He instantly studied some files and required a needle full of a substance that would cleanse her of all the drugs and alcohol that Jessica had ingested. It would feel horrible but it was indeed for the best.  
  
He brushed the hair from her face and wiped all the dirt from it with a warm towel.  
  
He touched his earpiece, "Stef?"  
  
^Yeah?^  
  
"Stevie's back."  
  
She was in the room in less than a second. Relief flooded over her face as she saw the teen resting. She reached down and squeezed Stevie's hand, making sure she was real then hugged Smith.  
  
"I knew we'd get her back."  
  
"This is going to take some time for everything to go back to normal. Getting all the drugs out of her system will take at least a week."  
  
"I've got to go tell the guys."  
  
"Shh...don't wake her."  
  
"I won't, I'm not making promises about everyone else."  
  
She found Cray first, who was walking up the stairs depressively shoving a chocolate muffin into his mouth. "She's back!" Stef said as loudly as she dared. "She's in her room!"  
  
Cray dropped the muffin and ran for her room. Stef shifted upstairs and pulled Darth from beneath his bed where he was retrieving a missing sock, leant down and kissed him then pulled him to his feet.  
  
"That was quite a welcome."  
  
"Stevie's back!" Then they both ran down the stairs and into her room. Smith had his hand clamped over Cray's mouth and the Smurf was slowly turning blue while trying to mumble something.  
  
"If you stop talking I'll let you go," Cray finally shut up and stopped talking. "She needs to sleep."  
  
He nodded and Smith released him. He required chairs for them all and they just waited. They would look up at every little sound she made but she didn't wake up for two hours and when she did, she didn't see any of them before running to the bathroom.  
  
She threw up and cleansed herself of all the drugs and alcohol that were in her system, needless to say she was a little woozy by the end of it. When he was sure she was finished Smith picked her back up and carried her back to her bed.  
  
She was more confused than anything, "What happened to me?" she asked as she sat on the edge of her bed looking around at the people in her room.  
  
"You don't remember?" Smith asked concernedly.  
  
"No, it's all too fuzzy. I don't even know what day this is. And I feel really sick."  
  
Cray sat down beside her and hugged her gently around the shoulder, "We thought we lost you."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Smith looked at the others then back to her, "You were sick Stevie. We weren't sure if you were going to pull through."  
  
"Am I ok now?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can I go back to sleep?"  
  
"Of course you can," he said as he tried to shoo the others out but Stef got past him.  
  
Hugging her as tightly as she dared, she smiled, "Everything's going to be ok."  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
"Stef..."  
  
"I'm going Smith I'm going."  
  
He shut the door behind them and looked down at Stevie, "do you want me to stay or go?"  
  
"Please stay."  
  
He sat down beside her, "you can sleep now, I promise that you're ok."  
  
"Dad? Could you read me a story just till I fall asleep? I know it's kiddy but..."  
  
"What story would you like?"  
  
"Peter Pan."  
  
He smiled and required a copy of the book.  
  
*****  
  
It was dark when she opened her eyes again, and her dad was sitting right there by her side. She flicked the lamp on.  
  
"I wasn't sick was I?"  
  
He didn't answer for a moment. "What makes you think that?"  
  
"I got some flashes of memories...they weren't a dream, I could tell the difference. But they weren't mine."  
  
"I guess this talk doesn't have to wait until you're a hundred and three years old."  
  
"You're going to tell me?"  
  
"If you want me to."  
  
"I think it would be for the best."  
  
He sighed, "Before you were born, your body belong to a girl named Jessica. She was a street person and therefore a good candidate for the project. She resurfaced and took over you, you were her for a few days and we weren't sure if we were going to get you back. She took an exceedingly powerful drug that basically killed her. Without your soul to take over your body simply would have died."  
  
"So...that wasn't me doing all those things I remember?"  
  
"No, whatever you have remnants of memories of are things that she, not you, did."  
  
"And how I acted at the party?"  
  
"Your...aberrant behaviour was caused by her memories coming to the surface."  
  
"But there's nothing to worry about now?"  
  
"No, nothing at all."  
  
"Dad...I'm glad to be home."  
  
"So am I."  
  
The End.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Aww...a happy ending. Coolies. 


End file.
